Dalton's Journey
by Rad5002
Summary: Dalton Cault. Occupation: Wastelander. When Dalton's a scrawny 19 year old in the wrong place at the wrong time, his life take a twist onto adventure and mystery. A past to explore, and a future to survive. Will the Wasteland Warriors help him through, or be the death of him? First Fan-fic ever so probably will bad. Criticism is highly appreciated!


**Dalton's Journey.**

**Editor's Note: This is my first fan fiction I have ever written, let alone a book of sorts. This may or may not be any good. Either way, here goes…**

Dalton Cault was huddling behind some debris from a nearby-destroyed building. His thoughts were on surviving, and keeping his head down. Guns were being fired from the other side of his safety. Raiders were battling it against some other faction.  
The flare from a flamethrower could be barely seen from his angle. The hiss it made and the screams of a woman made it seem as though it had hit its mark.  
He took a quick glance to see what was happening. What he saw was rather strange. A group of people in blue combat armour was facing off against raiders. The blues were outnumbered but seemed to be able to hold their ground.  
A shot landing next to Dalton's head made him duck down again, hiding away. He was not much of a combat sort of person. He was a weak guy, liked to put things together and take them apart. That said, give him a rifle or pistol and he'll try his darn best.

A male tumbled over next to him, trying to run to cover it seems. Grenades bounced off his bandolier when it made contact with the floor.  
For some reason, they had not exploded. Dalton was scared. Scared of this new guy who tumbled next to his hiding spot. More afraid of the grenades lying about.

The guy lying next to him was on the floor. The guy was a raider. A rather unfriendly one judging by appearance. As if there was any other kind.  
"Boooom!" The raider shouted as he was about to peel the pin off a grenade, grinning widely. Dalton jumped back in surprise but fell over his own two feet.  
Oh how he wished for his old scrapyard. Why did he ever leave? Before he could finish his last thoughts of regret, the raider's face exploded, showing nearby with blood and bits of brain. He looked around, the raiders were on the run or dead.

The blues had won! Not that this was any sort of victory for him. It still meant death. These people were professionals. They had gear, training. Too powerful to care about him it seems. He was hoping for a quick death when a burly woman in blue combat armour and a red bandana walked over to him, hefting a large missile launcher as she walked.

"Hey, you there! Are you alright?" The woman asked. She towered over Dalton at 6'5", while Dalton was 5'4". "Um… Yeah I'm okay… thanks for the help against the raiders" Dalton looked up at her. She bellowed her head back, and laughed a mighty roar "Helped?! You hid behind a rock! You did nothing! You was lucky we were here. The mighty wasteland warriors!" Several roars and growls came from the other members wearing the blue combat armour. "Says the one who did nothing with her broken rocket launcher"

An African American male in the same blue combat armour and a combat helmet, walked up to the two people, armour showing wear and tear. "Hey there, I'm the leader of these wasteland warriors. I'd ask your name, but I doubt we'll meet again so there's no need to learn it. C'mon Beth. We need to head out. Our armour's falling to bits. We need to scavenge what we can. We've already lost Jenny to those freaks".

The woman started to walk away, when Dalton noticed something weird about the Missile launcher. "Hey, can I have a quick look at that?" Dalton pointed to the Missile launcher. Beth nodded and put it down "Piece of crap doesn't work anyway. I've gotta help clean up what's left of Jenny, poor gal. I'll be back soon" Beth wandered off to help scavenge the remains of Jenny's gear, sparing no glance at her dead comrade's burnt face, scorch marks all over her.

Dalton examined the Missile launcher. Taking a quick glance at the back, he noticed that some of the wiring was a bit off, and the reloading to firing mechanism is slanted and jammed. Fiddling around with it seemed to fix it, and a satisfying click noise was the reward. "Hey! You fixed it!" Beth shouted, taking the Missile launcher and waving it around on her right shoulder. Pulling the trigger made the launcher firing mechanism work. Luckily, there was no missile loaded. "HEY! Barret!"

The leader of the Wasteland Warriors slumbered over, looking depressed from their loss of Jenny. "This guy… Dalton I think? He just fixed my Missile Launcher. We need a repairer. He probably needs some protection, looking how scrawny he is. What'd you say?" Barret looked at Dalton for a few seconds, looking like he's contemplating Beth's choice. "Alright, kid. I'll give you a chance. Wanna join up with the Wasteland Warriors? You'd be in charge of repairs until we find anyone else more suited. Currently you look like crap so I suggest you take the offer"

Dalton hesitated, wondering what would happen now that he's offered a chance to join up with a group. 'A repairer… being able to stay back and look after equipment. Like before at the scrapyard… home…' He slowly started reaching up, past his wastelander outfit to his barter hat and motorcycle goggles. Stroking them, he feels as though he'd be better at fixing things than anything else.

"Alright, I guess I can stick with you. This seems pretty safe" Barret and Beth laughed at this, to which while Beth continues laughing, Barret replies with his own remark "Safe? This is the Wasteland Warriors you just joined. There is no safe anymore kid. C'mon, I'll introduce you to the rest, and we'll give you Jenny's armour until we get back to base" Dalton gulped and followed, wondering just what he got himself into now…


End file.
